Our September visit to Jersey was blessed with beautiful weather. In using the word 'blessed' I am following a custom of the English language, rather than suggesting that weather systems are endowed by a non-existent God specifically onto deserving or lucky people. I am merely commenting that the changeable British Isles weather cannot be predicted with sufficient accuracy often even just a few days before.
It was sunny and warm, verging on hot.
We caught a taxi down to St Aubin, the hottest town or village on Jersey. They like their obscure saints on Jersey. We were staying in St Saviour's Parish, just outside St Helier. St Aubin is in the parish of St Brelade and opens into the Gulf of St Malo.
Jersey is a Crown Dependency of the United Kingdom and a self-governing parliamentary democracy with its own financial, legal and judicial systems,and the power of self-determination. It prints its own money, which has the same value as sterling. English notes and coinage are accepted in shops, but only Jersey notes come out of ATMs; they are easy enough to deposit in a bank on return to England. Residents with no connection to the UK are considered British Citizens; sadly, while we were still on the island, a man from Jersey (and his friend from Norfolk) were murdered in Thailand. they were referred to as 'British Tourists' & the UK Foreign & Commonwealth Office carried out similar duties for both.
As soon as we got out of the taxi, we saw a group of men playing Petanque, on a space set aside for any member of the public to play. This reminded this that Jersey has a dual culture: I think of Petanque as typically French, and in England have only seen it in a quirky pub, decades ago.
We wandered about the village enjoying the sights. It wasn't spectacular but a very pleasant way indeed to spend the middle of a glorious Sunday. There was no shortage of places to rest for coffee. In the background below is the restaurant that suffered the fire on Friday - a large place, this explains our wait for a taxi.
I really liked this courtyard but would have preferred to photograph it without the car!
We walked down the jetty, and back to the Town Square. I snapped this photo of the Bureau des Centeniers, essentially a police station, because it recalled the fictional Bureau des Étrangers in Bergerac. It was reassuring to find a tourist monthly magazine in our hotel room featuring John Nettles on the cover. I think he is effectively worshipped as a demi-god in this Bailiwick.
In the town square Jimmy and I both experienced...I don't know, an epiphany, perhaps? There is a land train that runs between St Helier and St Aubin and back. A board advertised the departure times. We watched and listened as a couple, perhaps in their sixties, and otherwise seemingly averagely intelligent, repeatedly read out the times. "11.55, 12.55, 13.55, 14.55, 15.55". Struggling to memorise this, one of them wrote it down. They didn't seem to detect a pattern. For us, it was obvious. We asked each other later - how do people cope unchaperoned in public?
We walked along the bay for a while, and then back, spending a couple of hours lying on the beach. A gorgeous expanse of golden sand, gloriously hot weather, and barely a soul about. My phone registered the temperature next to the sea wall in the 40s, although, obviously, this wasn't the general air temperature. I have no idea why we didn't go into the sea. Perhaps we were perfectly content on the sand, and hadn't been short of swimming opportunities in our hotel. There was so very few people on the beach, I couldn't really understand why. Of course, there is more coast line per head of population than on larger islands, but, even so - where were they all?
We finished off with an early dinner in a delightful Italian restaurant on the seafront. It was an odd time of day, so our choice was limited, but we had a lovely meal. The décor seemed like a throwback to the Eighties, but not in a tired, shabby way. The food was excellent and service good.
Our flight on the Monday was early afternoon, so were able to spend the morning in and by the pool, basking in a hot summer's day. When I returned to work on the Tuesday, people were astonished by my tan. Well, people who hadn't known me long enough to know how quickly and easily I go brown!
After breakfast we posed for photos with the hotel's gorilla statue, promoting the Durrell Wildlife Park
